


giving names to feelings

by foundinthebreach (raijuthehyeju)



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Breastplay, Domestic Fluff, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, Roughhousing, Touch-Starved, it's space weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raijuthehyeju/pseuds/foundinthebreach
Summary: It's over.Something new's been started.And tonight it could officially begin.Or: what happens when you, Joann Owosekun, are both helmswomen who happen to survive a war together, and desperately need to satisfy something more than just the need for verbal confessions of crushes you've had on each other for a very long time.
Relationships: Keyla Detmer/Joann Owosekun
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	giving names to feelings

**Author's Note:**

> holy fuck. i haven't posted jola in so long || i've been working on this on and off for like three months now i hope y'all like it || kudos and comments give me life tell me what u think to keep them jola flames alive || kinda longform but i rly wanted to explore the depths of these two || takes place one night after the paris peace awards ceremony where they all get the medals || wrote almost >6k words of helmswomen fuckin'. cheers i'll drink to that || when's disco S3 comin' home give me my ship of dipshits || @raijuthehyeju on twitter || thanks and god bless

“Goodnight, Jo.”  
A thumb brushed at Joann’s cheek.  
And an Ops Officer’s cheeks ached from smiling so much. “Goodnight, Keyla.”

The night’s events after _Discovery’s_ diplomatic endowments had been one of celebration, jubilation, and confessions. The core crew, with Medals of Honor freshly endowed and egos rightly inflated, had scurried from the opulent halls of Starfleet’s praise and into somewhere more subdued, more locale with a change of attire; a festive wine bar hosting veterans in the dozens, sharing a night of casual attire, drinks, and laughs to carry away the weight of war. Above all, however, the officers celebrated peace- the very thing they as colleagues, as Federation citizens, and as people they had fought so hard to protect.

And for Operations Officer Joann Owosekun to have watched Navigator Keyla Detmer: her colleague, her fellow officer, her _friend,_ and her _crush,_ get the courage and pour out her heart under a dimly lit sidewalk to her? A confession tinged with messy, one-eyed tears after escaping outside with her for a breath of fresh air, with Keyla meekly asking if she wanted a ‘cyborg girlfriend’ as words tumbled out of her nervous, trembling lips?

Well. How could Joann waste an opportunity like _that._

Throughout the rest of the night at the wine bar, each touch Joann shared with Keyla had felt like embers dashed across the skin, each laugh like dust skirting a meadow’s fresh dew reflected and butterflies flitting in her gut. With scooching closer to each other after a trip to the restroom (at one point Keyla _sitting in her lap_ much to the amusement of their crew), fiddling with each other’s hands under the table, even something so mundane as the back of Joann’s pinky grazing Keyla’s arm… oh, Joann felt goosebumps from Keyla, practical _goosebumps_ at even the tiniest touch! It was enthralling, heart-stopping: invigorating in ways Joann couldn't describe! What made each touch so powerful, Joann mused in her wine-wrought haze? What made those touches so… electric, so desperate for there to be more, yet so delectably fleeting in what could be shared? Hadn’t she and Keyla sat across from one another for nearly a year, unaffected and unbothered-- well, that last part wasn’t completely true. There _were_ days when more basic instincts would try to surge and bubble over Joann’s composure, flashes of desire and want crossing her mind when she _should_ be focused on routine scans.

No, this feeling had a name; a reason why it felt so raw.  
But she’d not remember its name till later.

Yet Joann supposed, as she absently listened to a story Tilly told at the table while her eyes watched Keyla in silent adoration… even if she didn’t have a name for the sensation, the answer to its causation was right there, all along.

Keyla was always so close, yet so far away.  
And now, after all this time- the fear of war’s violence that hung over their anxiety-riddled heads was gone… and they were finally free to have a chance and explore each other.

Free, unburdened, and unbound by the horrid acts they used to drive _Discovery_ towards every day.

In all those days, in all that time and all those months spent watching each other from respective consoles- stony and stoic and bound to a beloved, cherished duty in Starfleet- it could feel like a prison: an inescapable box, plunging their crew further into danger every damned day of the war. Now- to be a _recipient_ from the touch of those hands? So diligent in their work, and so calculative in execution of commands, Joann took the place of a touchscreen? Resolutely, Keyla was there. Keyla was good at her job. Keyla survived untold horrors to even _be_ at that post. Joann had unwittingly watched Keyla, basking in the shared proximity at the helm; they had worked together, collaborated, harmonized and made their ship sing in operations and navigations… and finally, Joann could see for herself what those hands _felt_ like. 

Touched like.   
Caressed like. 

And upon this realization, the night was both a heartsong-induced blur and calculatingly committed to memory (where wine did not occasionally fog the details), Joann at one point keeping herself from choking at the silent thrill of Keyla slinking an arm around her shoulders at their booth, watching Tilly order another round as Joann basked in the nameless feeling. 

The memory gently wafted back.

  
_“Do you like this?” Keyla asked in sudden self awareness, remembering they still had boundaries that needed to be established._

_Overcome with relief and a dryness of the mouth, Joann sniffed and reclined further into the crook of Keyla’s arm. She turned her face closer into Keyla’s chest, that small smile growing wider as her nose crinkled in delight._

_“You’re lucky you’re taller than me,” Joann mused.  
_ _“Oh?” she nudged her shoulder. “Why’s that.”  
_ _“Because otherwise I’d be doing this to_ you _right now.”_

_She heard Keyla give a quiet whip of a chuckle, Joann wondering if Keyla felt the dimples rising on her cheeks against her own skin. “I’ll hold you to it later, okay?”_

_“Deal.”_

  
  


After an instance relishing in that memory, Joann remembered that she was still in a Parisian hotel hallway, that it was late, and that she _should_ be heading to bed already. The two were about 10 doors down from each other, with most of the core _Discovery_ crew bunked in singles on the same floor thanks to Starfleet’s accommodations for the festivities. With one more parting grin, Joann slipped out of Keyla’s embrace as the other let her go, turning to head down the hallway back to her room.

Alone.   
By herself. 

And Keyla by herself, too. Alone.

One door down, Joann’s heart began to hurt.  
Two doors down, Joann’s chest heaved and her hands felt jittery.   
Two and a half doors down, Joann stopped walking… and she heard Keyla cease fiddling with her purse, the door halfway open and Keyla pausing in the hallway.

And the feeling Joann had no name for returned, pounding against the deafening silence of an ache that plunged deep into her core.

“Joann?”

What the fuck was she doing?   
What in the actual, royal fuck was she, Joann Owosekun, doing- walking away from Keyla, her _girlfriend,_ like this? Being polite? Courteousness? Offering proper protocol? Held back by her own nervousness? Hesitancy? Maybe being stuck on a starship too long had made her a prude, maybe she was just careful, or--!? What? After everything they’d been through, and after being here now, she was just going to _leave_?

“Jo,” Keyla murmured. “...I-”

Memorization, for what little she'd had done already, had paid off.   
The slight waver. The alertness in Keyla's voice. A husk near the end, the way Keyla had stopped dead in her tracks opening the door...

Joann could practically feel hot breath on her shoulder.

_She needed it there now._

And before she knew it, Joann turned around, stepping, then walking, then trotting back towards where Keyla was standing, and she might’ve heard a strained “Joann” from Keyla as she met her at the door, then Keyla against the wall, thudding, Joann unable to breathe, only feeling, and suddenly Joann’s hands were on Keyla’s jawline and she was kissing her as if she were the only source of air for miles. 

Keyla stumbled backwards into her hotel room as Joann’s foot kicked the door shut behind them, mind revving into overdrive with each kiss, thrash, and attempted recollection of _how,_ exactly, to properly kiss someone. At first, it was an awkward clash of lips and teeth with ungraceful smacks and gasps, bodies reveling in how perfect and plush the others’ mouths were and wanted to fall into sync. Joann’s brow furrowed at the light tug Keyla gave her bundled hair from the grasp cradling her head, Joann’s own hands moving to Keyla’s ribs as she planted a deep and selfish kiss to the woman’s soft skin of her cheek, her jaw, her neck and oh, the _moans_ Keyla made...

For months, and months, and _months,_ Joann had to look at Keyla across the conn. For months, they sat at their posts, endured a war together, faced hell in the form of destroyed ships and different universes… and each time, she was beautiful- cool, collected beauty in the face of horrid adversity. Joann had seen Keyla at her most joyous, most relieved, impassioned and enthralled and extreme at the helm; whether it was light sweat beading on her brow, the colors of her eyes and hair shimmering all sorts of spectrums with when they entered warp, the thin hands that so gracefully glid across her touchscreen... Now that the dust was settling and the sky was finally beginning to clear, Joann couldn’t imagine ever letting Keyla go, finally able to indulge her quiet curiosity of what, exactly, Keyla Detmer looked like in all her beauty, unrestrained by uniform… 

And to Joann’s great relief and even greater adoration, she relished in the sensation that the feeling was _very_ much mutual from Keyla- if the ferocity of Keyla’s roving hands and the desperation of her kisses were anything to go by.

Finally, she recalled the name of this feeling; simple, obvious, and infinitely horrid in its implications.

_Touch starved._

For what felt like a flash yet stretched on for hours, the two were content to lose themselves in kisses against the wall, the only sounds to be heard the taste of lips and tongues, rustling of fabric, the light moans that would creep out of the others’ throats--

“L-listen, listen, um…” Keyla finally said, breaking in a pant as she felt Joann’s hands begin to trace the bottom hem of her blouse. “I’ll, be, uh-- honest with you before anything and just-- tell you now. I haven’t-... ugh, okay-- I haven’t- been with anyone since before the war,” she spat out, the heel of her palm mashing her forehead and running through her hair, “so if I seem a little out of it or slow or giddy or _squirmy_ , I...” 

Keyla paused, forcing herself to take a breath as her hands settled on Joann’s shoulders. “Oh my god, my head’s spinning, whew... I-I wanna take my time, if that’s okay. Take our time and do… whatever. Relearn. A-and that’s not a reflection on you; I want it, I uh-- _have,_ wanted it, and…I want to make this a good time for you too. For both of us, alright?” 

A million questions buzzed through Joann’s mind, threatening to distract her from the navigator in her sights. _Didn’t you go back with Thompson after Mudd crashed that ship party? No one’s offered, all this time? How could anyone_ not _want to be with someone like_ you _?_ For as busy as those thoughts were, none of those questions seemed to matter now, however, as a hand went to cusp Keyla’s cheek and brush a thumb against her jawline, Joann nodding in the room’s darkness to the other’s face tinged with apprehension. 

“Of course,” she assured Keyla, “of course. Just- tell me if you ever need to stop. Want anything slower, faster, need a break, water, whatever you need. ...And honestly, I--”

Sincerity began to bubble at the back of Joann’s throat. “I’ll be honest, too; I haven’t-- slept with anyone since the war started, either. Just-- in between the pressure, everything that was happening, trying to get comfortable on the ship with a new crew... So that’s… yeah. I’m happy to take my time. _Our,_ time, rather, ha--”

The women shared an embarrassed, meek laugh. 

Keyla was biting her lip while Joann mused over what to do next with her hands, moving them to rest on Keyla’s shoulders.

“Can I take this off?”

Her eyes fluttered closed and Keyla’s head leaned back, letting out a deep sigh that sounded like she’d been holding. “Mhm.” 

So Joann, trying to remember suaveness and forming a path of travel for her hands on the fly, leaned in for a kiss to distract Keyla as she undid the clasp on her jacket.

“Lights,” she spoke into Keyla’s lips, “10 percent.”  
“ _And_ engage enhanced privacy,” Keyla added to their amusement as the OS chimed in response.   
“These rooms come with that function?”  
“It’s a bunch of Starfleet officers coming back to _Paris_ in _fancy hotels_ after being cooped up in space; I would be surprised if they _didn’t._ Want any music? _”  
_ “Anything relaxing. Old-styled house would be nice.”   
“Synth or alien?”   
“Alien _synth_. Surprise me.”

By the time Jo’s fingers had found the zipper and began to pull it downward, the hand that was holding the other’s cheek was helping unfurl the jacket from the other’s shoulders and down, down and off her arms as Joann helped undress Keyla as they spoke, shrugging off the jacket and savoring the sensation of touching Keyla’s soft skin. God, just like at the bar, even brushing her bare _forearms_ was sending goosebumps down Joann’s back, a dryness welling in her throat as her hands began to snake up and under Keyla’s undershirt. The ginger gasped against Joann’s lips once Keyla felt her find the bra and, before Joann had the chance to quietly ask “is this okay,” their kiss and embrace was broken by Keyla’s arms hurriedly taking her shirt off, the women chuckling at their mutual enthusiasm.

“Yeah, this is gonna be my thing,” Keyla offered as she tossed it across the room, standing there in a little black bra while looking both bashful and expectant of Joann. “There. All yours.”

“I get the honors for _these_ , then?” Jo teased her tits. 

Keyla snorted, her grin squirming wider as Joann’s hands wound around her back to find the bra’s clasps again. “Oh come on, I wouldn’t call it an ‘honor.’” 

“Really?” Joann popped the first hook with a wink. “I would.” 

The second clasp came undone. “Now you’re just flattering me. And you’re doing great, by the way.” 

“Good.” And with some fiddling, the last hitch was free, Joann slowly escorting the bra down and off Keyla’s arms as she spoke. “That was kind of my goal tonight.”

With the piece discarded, Joann had the chance to look at the other woman somewhat nude for the first time, and the idea of a preserved Grecian statue from the waist upwards struck her imagination. The smoothness of faint scars that speckled Keyla’s body, the gorgeous angles and hollow of her neck, the way Keyla’s skin glistened in the soft light of the room while her petite bare chest heaved slowly, deeply in anticipation… Joann felt her heart skip a beat and a warmth travel down, into, and past the pit of her stomach, into the space between her legs, and felt it blossom back into a heart that ached for the woman across from her. Tiny rivets of what looked like silver scars and similar conduits to the indents on her face dashed the small of her armpit, chest, and down the length of her right shoulder and waist- no doubt muscular augments related to her cybernetics that helped connect nerves and tissue. Where would she even _start_ , where could she even _think_ about laying her hands first? So plain Joann’s bewilderment must have been, that Keyla gave an amused breath of a chuckle, snapping Joann out of her horny stupor for at least a second. 

“Y-yeah?” Keyla laughed quietly, nervously. 

“Yeah,” Joann assured.  
“What are… what’re you looking at--”   
“Just you,” she told her in a strangled whisper. “ You’re beautiful, Keyla. I don’t… I can’t remember if I’ve told you that yet. But you’re beautiful, you really are...” 

In between all the passion and shared space of the evening, this single, simple comment seemed to catch Keyla off guard and tore down whatever defenses (or reservations) may have been left, her eyes wide and mouth barely quivering open. Jo leaned in for another kiss, hands traveling from Keyla’s shoulders to touch her breasts for the first time. Just as Keyla’s lips threatened to wobble mid-kiss, Jo pressed the woman’s nipples with her thumbs and gave the soft skin a grope, Keyla letting out a song-like moan that Joann could listen to all day. She felt, then, as if Keyla was remembering her own habits- her body _and_ mind recalling her own strategies, ticks, mannerisms, Keyla’s grip on Joann’s hips tightening and fingertips tracing the edges of her pants.

The Ops Officer suddenly felt very hot in her own clothes.  
But Joann, ever the resourceful, didn’t _quite_ want to get rid of them _here_ .  
So she got an idea.

“How’s your balance?” Joann asked into the other’s lips.  
Keyla’s brow furrowed. “Pretty good, I think? Why do you ask--”  
She pulled back some. “Hook your hands around my neck?”   
So Keyla did, lacing her fingers together under Joann’s locs.

“Hold on tight.”

Keyla’s hands flexed, smirking some and watching Joann, “What’re you pLANNI-- AAh!”

Joann had quickly bent down to scoop and sweep Keyla off her feet, holding the Navigator bridal style in her arms as she caught the ginger’s contagious giggles. Keyla kicked her legs in playful protest, the Ops Officer swaying for dramatics’ sake, a realization of pride and confidence blooming in her chest that oh, she _really_ liked picking up Keyla.

“Oh my god, show-off--” she cackled, half in humor and half in genuine impressment as Joann began to lay her down, spooling Keyla out and over the bed.   
“A little bit,” Joann admitted, the bare skin of Keyla’s back beginning to mush into Joann’s hand between the sheets, “but I want to see you, you know. All sprawled out...” 

She peppered her with a kiss to her breasts, delighted to hear the the hollow of Keyla’s collar reverberate with those little gasps and moans, her neck, shoulders now hitting the bed, “see what you’re like…” a finishing kiss to the lips, “and oh, what a sight I have…” 

As she spoke, Joann’s hand ran through Keyla’s hair and let it halo out behind her, basking in the other woman’s topless figure as if she were the sun itself. As Joann had laid her down, Keyla had moved herself fully onto the bed, eyes shut and her petite chest rising and falling with baited breath. The view made Joann’s mouth dry and her heart skip a beat standing at the mattress’ edge, and if not for Keyla’s arms raising towards the sky and groping the air for her, Joann could bathe in the presence of this sapphic sight all night. 

“Where did you go,” Keyla asked in a breath with eyes still shut, “come baaaack…” 

“In a bit!” Joann chuckled, hands fumbling with the buttons of her shirt, “I’m just--”

“Waitwaitwait.” 

Joann looked up to see Keyla’s hands now groping towards her and rolled over some, her face all giddy smiles as a finger hooked into a beckoning motion. 

“Let me?” 

Joann’s cheeks dimpled at this, flush rising to her face and darkening her ears… so she complied, halting the unbuttoning of her shirt halfway down and climbing onto the bed. Keyla rose up and crossed her legs as Joann sat as obnoxiously close as possible, the ginger uttering a quick “first,” before cradling Joann’s jaw with both hands and stealing a deep kiss. Joann knew her hands should probably fly to Keyla’s side to grip her, hold her, resume memorizing the feel of her skin and the rivets of implants and scars, but Joann was already quite occupied with the girl attached to her face. Sparks of flashes were beginning to solidify into notes about Keyla: her lips were small, but lingering- her tongue was smooth and liked to taste when invited inside, and oh- Joann could feel how famished Keyla was for contact, intimacy, something beyond the formalities of rank and uncertainty about herself--

How Keyla too, was touch-starved, and so desperately wanting to reconnect with physical pleasure.

“Okay,” Keyla proclaimed after one more kiss, pulling her hands away and giving them a light shake, “okay okay okay.”   
“What?” Joann asked playfully, “nervous?”  
“I mean… a little,” Keyla confessed. “But a good kind of nervous, if that makes sense.” 

“Tell me, if it helps.” She allowed a pause to hang. “I like listening to you.” 

Keyla finally popped a button, allowing her knuckle to ghost over Joann’s skin near the edge of her bra. A moment was spent in mulling, taking her time as she bit her lip and shook her head. 

“Well,” she began undoing more buttons, “it’s… a little amazing we’re here? Doing this? And that you-- actually feel the same way about me? It’s,” Keyla continued, pulling the tucked part of Joann’s shirt out from her pants, “okay, I… like I said, I didn’t have sex with anyone these past months. Too weird. I didn’t want those wires to cross. And I’m- different since my injury. Different in ways I couldn’t really... tell anyone casually. There’s parts of me I found out are more... _sensitive_ since it happened. Enhanced, in ways. I was already having some weird body dysmorphia, and I got a little… disgusted with myself, I guess?” Keyla mused sadly, a hint of a frown on her face as she watched herself continue to fiddle with Joann’s shirt. Without looking down, Joann could tell the shirt _was_ fully unbuttoned, but Keyla’s topless self was buying time (or stalling, depending on how nervous she truly was). “Like I didn’t _deserve_ to feel that while piloting a ship into war. Does that make sense? Getting turned on by- my uniform rubbing against a nerve conduit, sitting at lunch trying to ignore it on days I was just... generally horny but didn’t wanna _touch_ anyone, and here I was getting coordinates to go hunting for Klingons… and then I’d look at you, and… fuck, you were ther-- _are,_ are, the… most beautiful person I’ve _ever_ sat across from. I’m… Joann, I thought so many things about you later on, things I’m embarrassed to even _admit_ and--” 

Joann’s legs, as Keyla spoke, had unfurled from a criss-cross to wrap around Keyla’s seat on the bed, and she hadn't even noticed until Joann smirked and used her thighs to scoop Keyla into her lap, as a spider would nestle into its mound. 

“Now _those things,_ you should definitely tell me about,” Joann spoke smoothly, hands massaging and memorizing Keyla’s chest. “Tell me everything, like you did just now. It’s hot. ...And take my shirt and bra off.”  
That got a small, quiet laugh out of them both, Keyla’s thin hands sliding up under the loose fabric. “Gonna need your arms for that.”  
“Mmm.” Joann hugged Keyla’s chest tighter, burying her cheek into her bosom… and gave it a ‘mwah’ of a kiss, pulling back and allowing Keyla’s hands to peel the shirt from her shoulders. “Bossy.”  
  


“How detailed do you want me to get?” Keyla mused, now fiddling with Joann’s bra hooks. Joann noted the slight pause, and her cheeks flushed at the sensation of being observed in such an admirative way. “B-because I can ge-- ohhh you’re wearing a strapless one~?”  
“Go wild,” Joann laughed, hands still massaging Keyla’s back. “On my bra _and_ what you thought about me.” 

Keyla laughed again as she made work of the hinges and hooks. “Okay…”

Joann watched the pilot bite her lip. “Your neck, at first. The small, right between the collarbone- where our uniform clasps are and the skin’s so tender at the end of shifts? When you’d look up from your station, a couple times I… god, it’s-- indescribable,” she admitted.  
As Keyla spoke, Joann felt the weight of her tits freely sag from the bra, sighing at the sensation of her bare skin, her bare _chest,_ touching _Keyla’s_ bare chest… she lost herself for a flicker in that window of sensation, but Joann managed to pick the reigns right back up, grinning as she plotted something devilish with a free hand’s new path downward. “How gorgeous you looked sometimes… and you were so cool, calm, collected… I wanted to know you. And I did, eventually, but know you _more_ than that _…_ what you were like under your uniform, what it’d be like to just--”

A button had been unbuttoned, and a zipper was sliding downward. 

“Sit in your lap, lean down over your station, h-have you-”

Fingers trailed over simple little panties. 

“…ah-ha... stick your hand down my pants, finger me, touch me when I’d feel cold and exposed when bridge personnel would _look_ at me, and _oh,_ god, Joann, please, oh my god--” 

Keyla’s voice hitched and Joann rolled her now motioning hips with the other, grinning widely at contact with the warmth of Keyla’s mound touched and welcoming. Joann had spent the time Keyla talked roving and exploring her new girlfriend’s body- her touch gentle, curious, fingertips kissing skin as water would roll off feathers... And while Joann took careful note to brush the places Keyla declared sensitive thanks to her augments, she finally snuck her hand down the front of Keyla’s pants, the ginger’s head now lolled over Joann’s shoulder and Keyla’s thin hands embracing the other’s back. 

“Is this alright?” Joann breathed, a finger rubbing gentle circles at the wiry hairs above her clit.

The need to answer the question of “did the curtains match the drapes” didn’t help the anticipation.

Keyla’s response was nothing but a softly pleading whine, hips motioning further onto Joann’s hand with her smirking at this wordless declaration. Keyla may have been a celibate for a year plus, but Lord save her- the warmth and wetness that teased Joann’s fingers, the subtle grind Keyla was already giving Joann’s hips, the way her chest heaved more and more as Joann ebbed closer to meeting her entrance... they stayed like that for a time, lost in each other’s hot breath and little sighs of adoration. At one particularly hard rub from the heel of Joann’s palm near the top of Keyla’s mound, the ginger suddenly gripped Joann’s arms tighter, head lolling over Joann’s shoulder while sensing Keyla’s shoulders slump…

“H…”   
“What?” Joann asked in a murmur, “What did you--”  
“Harder,” Keyla managed, Joann’s skin rippling as implication’s breath danced over her throat. Keyla’s voice was lathered in pity, in want, in timid yet desperate hunger, and Joann suddenly realized her hand was the stake poking at a dormant, now-crackling fire. “H-harder… y-you… you’re so--” 

“Me?” Joann hummed, her lips curling into a smile as she pressed at Keyla’s clit, the other woman gasping in a sigh and riding into Joann’s now-swirling touch. Joann’s eyebrows crinkled in want at the wetness she found, the discovered heat fueling her improv compliments...“Oh, you’re one to talk, ‘me…’ look at you. The most beautiful pilot I’ve ever known. Ever _seen_ . Watched, too. I watched you, yes I did- oh, couldn’t get you out of my sights, sometimes- out of my _mind_ … I saw your little looks, too. Not all of them. But I felt them sometimes. Towards the end I started to count. Oh, Keyla, you sound so _pretty_ right now, you know that? How happy I am to be here?”

Joann topped that cherry of a compliment off with a rather firm push of a thumb to Keyla’s clit, and Jo's finger finally into her entrance. 

A choked groan of a shout sobbed out of Keyla’s mouth.

Oh, Joann could sweet talk her all night if it meant she made _these_ sounds.

“Wait,” Keyla begged suddenly, “wait--”

Joann slowed some, caught off guard by Keyla’s sudden motions to scooch off her lap, but assured by the way she drug hungry lips over Joann’s cheek, drew deep kisses from her lips before speaking into them. “H-hold, on, I-- fuck, haha, whew--”

“Are you alright?”  
“Yeah,” Keyla breathed, “oh yeah--”  
“Too much?” 

“No, I just-- haha-- didn’t wanna come yet,” Keyla assured, hands flexing in between gripping Joann’s arms. Taking in a deep breath with lips hung open and sweat already beading in her brow, Keyla spoke: “Joann?”  
Joann nodded along, eyes wide and mouth suddenly parched. “Yes?”  
“Do you like oral?”  
“Yes--”  
“Okay, good, do you like _giving_ oral--”  
“God yes--” 

“Great,” Keyla sighed, “because you need to take my pants off _right now_ and go to fucking town.”

Heaven help her, Joann prayed.  
What a woman.

Keyla’s lips spread into a wider, almost anticipating smile, relieved and seemingly surprised by her own boldness. Like feedback from a speaker into a mic, Joann took life from Keyla’s expression, chuckling as her dimples rose and eyes widened, her chest rising with excitement, anticipation, a _rush--_

“Yeah,” Joann agreed finally, leaning closer into Keyla, then for a kiss, a push, ushering Keyla back onto the bed as the ginger’s arms scrambled and clamored to lie flat, “yeah, I can do that--”

With Keyla fully reclined, Joann rested her forehead between Keyla’s cleavage and hands found her unbuttoned pants, grinning at the heartbeat she felt thudding behind that smooth, pale skin. Joann may have desperately wanted her _own_ pants off, but the allure of seeing Keyla without hers with a greater desire, currently, thumbs hooked as she began to pull down. But she stopped, suddenly, Keyla’s chest rumbling with laughter and a full “nooo” of protest, Joann’s brow quirking and looking up from the ginger’s tits with her own chuckle. 

“‘No’ what~?”  
“Could you take both off?” Keyla asked, “at the same time? I didn’t wear my pretty lingerie, and--”  
“I thought you wanted to ‘take your time’~”  
“Oh trust me, I still do- just in the spirit of ‘I want you to touch and fuck me till the sun comes up’ and not ‘I don’t wanna come in my pants and I could be doing this a lot more comfortably.’”  
Joann’s head rolled to its side as she gave her a cute little grin. “That good, am I?”  
“Very, wow,” Keyla sighed, “ _very_ good.”  
“I’m having fun.”  
“I can tell.”  
“You can peel me later when I feel sexy and horny in something I’m proud of, and _don’t_ just want off.”  
Joann smirked. “You just wanna show off being naked at me.”  
“Oh, absolutely!” she exclaimed, and Joann could only laugh again, “I have for a while now!”  
“Okay, okay,” Joann chuckled, “help me out, here--” 

Joann’s hands were working in tandem with Keyla’s little shimmies and lifts, her back snaking backwards and rising up as she pulled Keyla’s pants further down her legs. When it got too far for her to reach without her lips leaving Keyla’s, Joann peppered kisses down Keyla’s throat, her chest, a left tit, under the curve of her breasts and down past her stomach, a deep hickey left above where Joann’s chin could feel the slightest brush of wiry hair… and she successfully wriggled Keyla out of her pants, the pilot helping by kicking the rest of the legs off her feet. Landing with a thump somewhere off the bed, the fact that Keyla was completely bare under her struck Joann like a crack of thunder, daring to pull herself up and look upon the woman below her. 

The earlier idea of the Grecian statue wafted back as Keyla Detmer lay there, eyes closed and implant gleaning in the room’s idyllic evening light. Oh, that same ache in Joann’s chest returned as she drank in the sight- an amber sun of hair behind Keyla bed, the metal that glistened against the night’s dimly lit accents, the petite body wrought with subtle curves and synthetic synapses... 

Technology had drawn Joann out from her home and into the wider world. The world with Starfleet, with starships, circuitry, and knowledge of what she could discover among the stars that she saw every night as a child. And here she was, lavishing elicit praise, delight, _hickies_ on a girlfriend who blended technology with her very being, very body, very _soul-_ oh, how beautiful it was- for it had strengthened her, saved her, and helped Keyla grow into the wonderful woman she was.

Not to mention that, yes, indeed, the carpets matched the fucking drapes.

Even if Tilly’s room had a window facing the beautiful vista of Paris’ ancient architecture, Joann Owosekun could claim that she had the best view in the entire hotel right in front of her.

“Look at you,” Joann sighed, laughed in thrill, in admiration, shaking her head in disbelief and awe at the woman before her. “Oh, look at you! Heaven help me! All mine tonight-” she proclaimed, gripping her hands on Keyla’s knees before sighing, resting her cheek on the cap of one, kissing it once, “all mine!”, twice, down the thigh, three times-- and Joann drank in the scent that grew stronger the closer she got, dragging her lips down the sweet, soft flesh of Keyla’s thighs... 

Joann’s pants needed off.   
Now. 

So, snaking herself away from the tender skin and sitting back upright, Joann's hands flew to her own button and zipper, trying to kick her garments off in, admittedly, a rather unsexy fashion.

“You’re taking them off, aren’t you~”  
“Make _me_ do all the depants-ing in this relationship,” Joann teased, “I see your strategies, Lieutenant--”  
“Oh, oh!" Keyla exclaimed, opening her eyes to look and playfully point between her legs, "You said the L word first!”  
“Yes I _am_ a lesbian, thank you very much.”  
“No, I didn’t mean--!” Keyla laughed, “Fuck, okay… you like rank name drops?”  
“Sometimes,” Joann told her, finally out one pant leg, “Have to be in the right mood and setting for it. You?”

“Oh, I’m a sucker for it,” Keyla admitted. “When you had that Terran uniform on for the first time and called me ‘Lieutenant?’ Yeeeah, that uh- whew, wow--!” 

That made Joann’s cheeks darken all the more, giggling in both humor _and_ relief that yes, finally, both her pant legs were off, she was free, and the two women were bare before each other in both confessions and body. She drew in a deep breath as she took her place back between Keyla’s thighs and took a deep breath, the heat of her body and fragrance of her cunt as powerful as ever.

“I’ll have to remember that,” Joann spoke into her lower lips. 

And Keyla bit her lip with a smile and opened her legs further.

“Please do.”

* * *

The helmswomen fucked long, hard, and well into the night, the backdrop of complimentary wine and blissful revelations all included in the cozy Parisian room. Waters were chugged in between breaks, sex toys from a ball gag to a handful of rope were synthesized in the hotel’s complimentary replicator, and the dermal regenerator would _definitely_ have to be used in the morning (unless Keyla _liked_ having scores of spots all shapes and sizes, dotting her everywhere from her thighs to her neck). While it felt as if the time spent in service onboard _Discovery’s_ wartime conscription had smothered their true passion as scientists, Joann mused that, tonight, both her and Keyla were making up for lost time in the form of learning, studying, and understanding one another. Joann noticed Keyla’s little swears, how only her right eye broke tears, how hard she bucked and hollered upon her clit being sucked during an orgasm, which implants were more sensitive (and easier to reach) than others… oh, it seemed Joann had learned enough to fill an entire journal’s worth, her heart full of nothing but admiration and passion for Lieutenant Detmer. And yet, in that same level of observation, Joann felt as if there would always be more to discover about Keyla Detmer. She was an expanse, a delight, a heartfelt beauty, a hell of a woman- and Joann Owosekun had the chance to sit next to a helmswoman who also happened to be her wonderful, horny girlfriend.

The two were snuggling in the room’s extra furnishing of a papasan chair; sweaty and naked, their limbs were intertwined in the round seat as Keyla rolled one of Joann’s breasts, and Joann took their replicated Andorian rose joint from Keyla’s pass. Apparently when this certain alien flora was dried and smoked in this manner, in humans it produced THC-like induced calming effects, as well as carried sexual arousal for about eight hours or until morning (a popular distributor would often be Andorian polycules at Starfleet Academy dorms). The ‘alien synth’ music had been swapped out with a local Parisian station that procured songs submitted to a public radio network, a soft voice humming alongside gentle, soothing strums of a guitar. Joann took a deep breath, simmered the smoke in her lungs… and gave a satisfied hum at a particularly firm squeeze from Keyla, the smoke dissipating from Joann’s calm, pleased face.

“They’re not _going_ anywhere, you know.”   
“Exactly. Gotta hold ‘em in place, but keep ‘em comfy. _Engaged_ with their environment.”  
“You act like you’ve dated a _Caitian_ with how much you like my tits.”  
“Not _dated_ one,” Keyla corrected with a smirk, “but let’s just say I knew someone very nice down the hall who was willing to _also_ shake off some pre-test anxieties. Sometimes it’s fun motorboating six alien boobs, leave me alone.”  
“No, no,” Joann chuckled, “if _anything,_ I’m jealous~”  
“Bet we can find someone who’s willing.”   
“If they are willing, then I am very ready.” 

Joann passed the alien herb to Keyla, the ginger drawing in a long breath as they basked in the silence. 

“We’ll have to update the quarters registry before we go back,” she reminded Keyla, whose eyes widened at the prospect.  
“You’re… okay with that?”  
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t, and not if I didn’t think you weren’t okay with it. Besides, it would be more complicated if we waited and then were back on duty; we’d need to move and everything during service.”  
“Right, yeah…mine?” Keyla asked meekly, “or yours?”   
“You need your implant’s hookup, right? Let’s do yours. I don’t want to have to make you move or whatever’s involved in uprooting it.”   
“Thank you,” Keyla sighed, “it’s not that cumbersome, I would just hate to make Sickbay install another one.”  
“Also, you have that corner view port that makes for a great reading nook.”   
“I do, don’t I~ it’s a lovely view of the right warp nacelle. _Discovery’s_ still so new there’s only a two second delay between visual indicators as to differing FTL speeds. Ugh, those nacelles have such a wide impulse degree range because they’re so long, it’s so _nice--_ ” 

Joann’s lips firmed in an admiring smile, a hand going to settle just under Keyla’s collarbone and her thumb gently brushing the soft skin. “You miss her, don’t you,” she remarked. “Haven’t even been on Shore Leave for a week and look at you…”

“Everything about her and what she stands for,” Keyla admitted in a wistful voice. “The hum of the nacelles puts me to sleep, sometimes. Engines always did as a kid, but- as much as I loved the _Shenzhou,_ she could get a little rumbly. _Discovery,_ oh- she purrs; it’s deep, beautiful, sleek...”  
“It _is_ a nice white noise, isn’t it.”  
“That, and... this sounds silly,” she continued in musing, “but I can’t wait to see what we do now.”  
Joann’s grin grew with pride. “We’ll finally live up to her namesake, I guess.”   
“I hope so… I thought it was so ironic, when I first saw the ship name. Thinking ‘that’s a bit dramatic,’ ‘wasn’t this rush commissioned for a war’- like, we were gonna be a weapon of war, not exploring any star systems or really 'discovering' anything... and then finding out it was one of Stamets’ requirements for Starfleet conscripting his schematics theories? It was… inspiring, honestly.” Keyla paused, looking back down to Joann. “Made me have a little more hope that maybe I could still discover something, after all this. All that.”

She was right, wasn't she. They all could be discoverers again, Joann supposed, but Keyla even moreso. Thoughts, dreams, imaginations speckled her mind; what would they find? What would their new captain be like? Where would they follow their crew to, what wonders would they find and guide the ship towards in turn? No longer towards war, at least they knew. No longer towards death.

Towards new life. New memories. Both with each other.  
Together, they would learn more about that new life and add more memories every single day.

Joann followed Keyla’s gaze as she looked out over the curtain-drawn window, eyes lazy but full of love. “And what do you think you’ve discovered lately, lovely?”

Keyla simply smiled. “That I was very, very touch starved.” 


End file.
